If We Ever Meet Again
by MelodyPond17
Summary: Julia Ogden is a notorious Canadian thief. William Murdoch is a Toronto detective with a stellar reputation. When Ogden strikes Toronto, it's Murdoch's job to catch her and bring her to justice, no matter how interesting he finds her... AU Jilliam fic; will have some canon incorporated.
1. Chapter 1

**Obviously, this story deviates greatly from canon. I hope you will enjoy it, and if you do, feel free to leave a review! It would definitely help bolster this Murdoch Mysteries fan's confidence! ~Myst**

* * *

**"**Bloody hell, Murdoch," Inspector Brackenreid snapped in fury, slamming down a newspaper on the young detective's desk and beginning to pace around the office. "You had her!"

William Murdoch looked distinctly disgruntled. "I thought I did, sir," he told him, managing to keep a polite tone. "Apparently she knew what our moves were before we did." He glanced down at the newspaper, rubbing his chin. "She struck the mason's society, did she not?"

"You can read, can't you?" Brackenreid demanded, striding over to a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of fine whiskey. William rolled his eyes and scanned the newspaper, not bothering to read the full article detailing the theft.

_Julia Ogden, notorious Canadian thief, has seemingly returned to Toronto. She was last sighted in Buffalo, America, and it is thus far unknown why she has made an appearance in the popular Mason's society only yesterday. Ogden stole several valuables before disappearing without a trace, but oddly enough, did not make away with the most expensive valuable in the area. Where is Ogden now? Why has she, perhaps purposely, not stolen the Grand Piano which sits proudly in the Mason's Society? Where will she strike next?_  
_Citizens of Toronto are advised to hide your treasures and lock your doors more soundly._

William stopped reading there, glancing up as George Crabtree entered the room. "What do you have for me, George?" he asked the constable, who shrugged. "Not much, I'm afraid. We collected all the evidence at the crime scene, sir- fingerprints, hair, the works. Nothing was identified as Miss Ogden's, nor has she left any clues behind. Higgins is still looking, sir."

"I don't think there's any damn point in examining the scene any more, Crabtree," Brackenreid spoke harshly, now pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Julia Ogden is a professional thief. Canada's constabulary- every constabulary in every province- has been after her for a year now, I seem to recall. Murdoch himself was quite fascinated with her work at a point."

William cleared his throat. "A professional interest. I was trying to detect any clues she may have left behind in any of her thefts, as no officer could ever seem to find her, sir, but I was unsuccessful. One might think she was familiar with the police system."

"That's a distinct possibility, sir," George perked up visibly. "I've been doing some reading up as well. Would you like to hear the information I collected?"

"Go on," Brackenreid told him bluntly, taking a swig of his drink. "But don't expect us to be interested."  
"Very well, George," William answered swiftly, shooting Brackenreid a look and sitting back in his chair, still studying the newspaper intently for any clues the text might give him.

George straightened up. "Julia Ogden's father was a very wealthy man. She took advantage of this by going into medicinal studies. Pathology, I believe. She studied at various schools around the country and had sound references."

"She was a doctor?" William asked immediately, and narrowed his eyes. "That would explain one of her earlier thefts..."

"Does that matter? What else do you have on her, Crabtree?" Brackenreid interrupted and then coughed, looking down at his glass of whiskey. "But there's one thing that makes no sense. If this Ogden woman were from a very wealthy family, why would she feel the need to steal? She obviously didn't need the money."

"For a challenge?" William suggested, scouring his brain. "Those of wealth often have nothing to occupy themselves." He paused. "But then, her medical practice would have kept her busy enough, if she was employed anywhere."

Brackenreid snorted. "A woman pathologist? Not likely to get a job."

"If I may continue, sirs, this is where it gets quite interesting. You see, before Julia Ogden disappeared off of the map for a month, she was set to work in Toronto, at the Toronto morgue. That means that she'd have been working directly with the Toronto Constabulary. Working directly with us," George finished, looking triumphant. "And if I may bring your attention to-"

"Shut up, Crabtree," Brackenreid told him, and glanced at William, who was looking thoughtful. "Something strikes me as odd. Why would she become a criminal? She just was offered a job that in other circumstances she would never be offered. Surely she would have been excited, overjoyed even," William added.

"Or maybe you're over-thinking this, Murdoch. She's just a loon. We've encountered those types before. A smart rich 'un who just went crackers," Brackenreid told the younger man impatiently, twiddling with his badge and looking around William's office. "I don't care about her past, to be completely honest. I only give half a damn about her future, which will be spent in my jail cell. On with it." The large man stalked off then, and George nodded. "Would you like me to continue the search at the mason's society?"

"No, George, I'd like to come and examine it myself. Tonight, perhaps," William mused, picking up the newspaper again. George frowned. "I don't know, sir. There's a meeting tonight and I'm not sure if-"

"It's police business George," William reminded the constable, who inclined his head with a defeated sigh, cringing. "I'll tell the Inspector..." he spoke mournfully, and then exited the office, leaving Murdoch to bend his head over the newspaper again.

There was something ever so interesting about this Julia Ogden. He found himself wishing she had actually come to work in Toronto. To have direct contact with a mind like that! It was quite a shame she had put that mind to criminal ways instead of making a difference somewhere else with it.

_Focus, William. She's just another criminal that has yet to be caught. Nothing more._

William stood up abruptly and put on his hat, turning on his heel to glance out at the darkening sky. "Mason's society. Great," he muttered to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

T** W** O **W** E **E** K** S** L **A** T **E **R;**;**;

"Blunt force trauma to the head, on first inspection," Doctor Francis's voice was disdainful and his expression matched as he straightened up to face William, away from the finely dressed man lying dead on the well-polished floor, a gruesome stain against it. "Of course, I can't know for certain until the body is brought to my morgue, so I do not see how this is helpful to your investigation. Do not ask me to attend the crime scene again, Detective Murdoch, I have other duties and cannot be expected to drop everything on a whim." Doctor Francis's voice was dry and heavily sarcastic per usual, quite exasperating William. He managed to keep his expression neutral despite this.

"I would have thought a murder victim would be your first priority, Doctor Francis," he spoke through gritted teeth, as politely as he could. The disagreeable man did not bother to respond. He dropped a nod to Brackenreid, who was approaching with some resemblance to a swelled, angry bullfrog, and stalked away towards where his carriage waited. William sighed, half in frustration towards the unwilling coroner, and half in resignation towards what was heading towards him in the form of one very angry police inspector. "Sir."

"What the hell is going on, Murdoch?" Brackenreid demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, sir, the bank of Toronto has been robbed, and the desk clerk was killed. George is making inquiries into his background, as nobody seems to know much about him."

"I didn't want you to answer that," Brackenreid exhaled warily. "Ogden's slipped through your fingers. Again." He emphasized the word.

William hesitated a bit. "There's no evidence this particular case was the work of Miss Ogden," he pointed out, and Brackenreid rolled his eyes.

"As if it isn't. You haven't got her in the mason's lodge case yet, and she's gotten arrogant. She probably thinks we're incompetent." He was clearly very vexed at the thought of it, beginning to pace back and forth, and glaring daggers at anybody who happened to step in his way.

William shook his head resolutely. "Something's not right. I've been doing some reading-"

"-when do you not?-" grumbled Brackenreid,

"And there are inconsistencies. For example, why not take the grand piano from the Masonry lodge? It was the most expensive item there, and with her evident skill, it would be fairly easy. Even now, with this recent robbery, it doesn't make sense. She's never committed a murder prior to today. She's never hurt anybody prior to today."

"If she's a thief, she's not beyond it, Murdoch," Brackenreid pointed out bluntly. "She's a major criminal anyways. What's one murder to her?"

"I disagree. Odd as this sounds, she never actually hurts anybody, and never does any more damage or theft than strictly necessary for the item or money she plans to steal." William couldn't hold back a grimace, aware he sounded like a fool.

Brackenreid seemed to agree. "This is Julia Ogden we're talking about; a thief, a criminal. You can never take the easy way out, can you? The press is eating the constabulary alive! Find Ogden. She did it. She needs to be found. That's an order, Murdoch!"

William bowed his head. "I have all the constables out searching for her, sir. I'm certain she's still in Toronto. I just have to get into her head, think like she does…" he shook his head in aggravation. "I can figure out _where _she's hiding."

Brackenreid grunted, still surveying the scene. "You may be brilliant, me old mucker, but you're no bloody psychiatrist." He inserted a snort into the sentence.

There was a pause as William processed this. "You're right," he said, slowly, turning once again to face the Inspector. "I need an expert on this. A psychiatrist."

Brackenreid was silent for a moment; and then his eyes lit with understanding. "You're going to go and see-"

"Doctor Roberts," William confirmed. "Perhaps he can assist us in this case and with the search for Miss Ogden- or at least tell us something about our suspect."

"Our culprit, you mean. There's no doubt Ogden did this, Murdoch." Brackenreid warned him, and William concealed his frustration at the Inspector's single-mindedness.

"Yes, sir," he forced out, and watched as the older man exited the bank. His expression lightened as he noticed George approaching the bank, passing Brackenreid.

The constable wore a satisfied expression as he approached William; he twirled his hat and pursed his lips. "Detective Murdoch!"

"George. Have you discovered anything of importance?" In all honesty, William was not expecting much- perhaps George had discovered the victim's identity and background, or he had concocted one of the wild theories William was now so used to deflecting. He inspected the patch of floor where the body had been found, searching for traces of hair or dirt; anything that might put Julia Ogden in the clear. He didn't want her to be guilty; he realized, sitting up and looking at George as if he were actually listening to the constable. While thievery and murder were both crimes, William considered them to be on different levels. He'd suspected his suspect had a sort of morale code- she'd never once stolen from the poor, only the wealthy- and in a way, he admired her intellect. If she were a murderess-

"Sir?" George's question broke him out of his thoughts. He looked unhappy, now twiddling with his hat. "Were you listening to me? Did you hear anything I told you?"

William chided himself silently. "I apologize, George. I was lost in this case."

George shrugged. "I don't know if it will help at all, but the victim was named John Clarkson. He was unmarried and lived alone. He has no siblings and both of his parents passed away several years ago. We were unable to locate any other family members."

William nodded. "Keep trying. Was there anything significant about him?"

George responded with a negative, shaking his head. "He lived an ordinary life. He didn't appear to have any connections to Miss Ogden, nor did we find any motive to murder him."

"I didn't expect any less," William muttered under his breath. He had hoped there was a motive towards Clarkson's death- that would have made it less likely Miss Ogden had committed the murder. "Very well," he said, louder, in order for George to hear him. "Make sure the constables are still on the search for Miss Ogden. I'd also like you to fetch Doctor Roberts and ask him to come to the station house. Tell him Detective Murdoch needs his assistance on profiling a case."

"Sir," George said, and then he paused, the smile that William had earlier spotted returning.

"Is there something else?" William asked, knowing immediately that there was.

"Well, sir…" George paused again. "While looking in on the background of Mr. Clarkson, I thought it might be useful to look into Miss Ogden's background as well."

"I already made sure to do that, but thank you for the thought," William interrupted, but George continued on, undeterred. "I discovered that she has a younger sister. A Miss Ruby Ogden."

William's interest was peaked; he glanced sharply at George.

"She happens to reside here in Toronto, at least temporarily, and I was able to track her down." George looked proud, and a faint blush crept up his cheeks as he mentioned Miss Ruby. William was quite impressed with the young policeman's effort. "Very good, George. Have you brought her in?"

"Yes, she's waiting to be interviewed about her sister at the station house."

The two men stepped out of the bank. It was a glorious afternoon- the sky was a dark blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The sun, slipping lower with every passing seconds and leaving a trail of pink and orange in its wake, washed everything beneath it in a yellow-golden color. A light breeze batted at William's cheeks as he walked, and he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come.

Ruby Ogden, from what George was telling him, seemed an audacious sort, and no doubt his interview with her would be interesting…


End file.
